In all honesty, I have questioned the purpose of this blog in the past few weeks. I've been living in Hawai'i for over a year now, and I have become pretty acclimated to my new lifestyle. I've often wondered, since I'm not moving to Portland, is there anything to even talk about anymore?
Turns out, yes. There is.
I woke up at around four or five this morning. I don't know what time it was, all I know was that it was dark, windy, and humid. The palm trees outside my apartment were making an absurd amount of noise as the leaves slapped against my window. I woke up drenched in my own sweat and tears. My thoughts lately have been geared toward the peace and quite of my parents' suburban home in Orange County, California. It's weird calling it that, "my parents' home", because it really isn't my place anymore. My expensive apartment in the heart of this noisy tropical city is my humble abode now. It has been my home for this entire year. Wow. Weird.
Anyway, I don't know how long I stayed up crying, but I went back to sleep when the trucks came down my street to repave the roads. It was the sound of clashing metal and churning cement that was able to lull me to sleep.
This was not the first time I woke up in a nearly depressed state of homesickness. My dilemma is the fact that I won't even be able to take time off to go home for Christmas due to my company's holiday blackout policy. By the time employees are able to request time off again, Spring semester will be in full swing.
I don't know if I can go another year without seeing my family and friends.